Horus the Great

When I moved this place a few years ago, my landlord let me know that his cats might want in my room. He said they might scratch on the door to get in, too. I told him I was OK with that. I like cats. I wouldn't mind their company.

Honestly the cat part was what sold me on the place. I was really looking forward to having cats in my room. And I'd be even willing to take care of them most of the time if I was available.

These cats were different though, but not in a bad way. They were both sphinx cats. They were Hairless.

One was an older pink, shaded female named Hora. And she was the clear favorite of the landlord. Even though he liked them both, and treated them both very well.

The younger cat was a gray sphinx named Horus. I think he was two or three when I met him first.

Horus quickly became my favorite. This worked out well for both cats because they each had one person in the house who more was inclined to spoil them than the other.

And believe me, they were. Not only were they spoiled, but they were also pampered and lived a life of feline luxury few other cats ever new. They had the best vet in town. And I could tell since they never once got sick. Or injured in the years I lived there.

And that means a lot because these cats are hard to take care of. Upkeep is almost endless.

There is something different about their personalities, too. At first their faces look gremlin like compared to other cat breeds and almost give off a grimace like expression. But their personalities were, for most of them, the opposite the exact opposite of grimace.

Sphinx cats are known for being extroverted, attention seeking, and abnormally friendly compared to other cat breeds.

They adore people, period. They adore being around people, at anytime and in whatever mood they might be in.

They seek human attention when they want to play, when they want food, when they want to be coddled, and the best was when they knew their owner needed them around to know that they were a friend.

Sphinx cats have a more in-tuned under understanding of human beings. They had very few behavioral problems, and whatever mood they were in seemed to fit whatever was going on in their owner's life perfectly. These cats know when to cheer up people. And they also know to sit back quietly, and watch you, just to let you know they’re there for you when you feel no one else is.

Horus perfectly embodied these traits.

The only thing that bothered me was his occasional displays of public exhibitionism. These included times when he often ran around, lewdly, rubbing up against everyone and getting too physical with them. It was definitely comical more than bothersome.

If there were lots of people around, he’d parade around demanding the same attention from everyone. When he moved on to receive attention from someone else he'd do so with his backside showing the sensitive body parts other cats with hair don't have to worry about covering up. I always found this unnecessarily explicit. But, I suppose for all his good qualities, we could tolerate him for having one minor vice. That was even more minor considering he was neutered.

Horus was still a young cat. His reactions to things and emotions were naked ones untainted by experience.

When I lived there, I usually isolated in my room all day, so I was there with Horus, who stayed voluntarily. Horus was my constant companion. This was the one good thing about that time. I had a feline counselor 24/7.

I made sure he was wrapped in his blanket, warm and comfortable. In fact, I bought him special blankets that were extra soft, and I kept them clean and folded so that he could have access to a new one each week. Getting coddled in one of these blankets was something I treated him to for being such a good friend.

I decorated my room with two old, classic wingback chairs, and a few other pieces to make the room look Like a typical cozy bedroom in an old character house of character house.

Horus was a regular fixture on my wing back chairs. And he physically suited them. His lithe, velvet body was curled up into a perfect ball, with his tail wrapped around the edges of his silhouette. I’d neatly cover him in one of his soft blankets. To keep him warm. That was our routine.

On my worst nights, I was in more severe states of depression. on these nights, I'd find him under the covers with me purring loudly. He put himself there, for me.

He wasn't there to sleep in my bed. He was there to re-start mental health through intense therapy that involved his constant physical contact. A treatment he put me in on many darker nights - when hopelessness ran thick. The purr was the gentle hum that soothed and quieted my anxious mind. His soft velvet skin relaxed me and ease me to sleep in my most depressed states.

Hairless, extroverted cats like Horus were inherently free of prejudice, or any desire to do anything but embrace life, embrace naked emotions and support for their owners, and cuddle up to someone when they knew they were depressed.

Horus was a hairless cat. He still is. I just don’t live there anymore. But I visit him. He's just a few years older but acts the same. Even though he has a thin layer of grey fuzz, he still looks naked and a bit explicit, and sometimes he seems to show it off. But most importantly, he does it in a way that he probably can’t even understand as slightly too much, or a bit too intimate.

Naked cats know nothing of what humans attribute shame to. Naked cats have no problem flaunting the parts of their body that normally should be kept hidden by hair or clothing. In addition to that, they have no issue understanding the emotional states that human beings would hide from each other due to shame.

There's nothing really lewd about them. They're not even aware that their hairless. They're not even aware that certain parts of their body show more and make people uncomfortable than other cats with hair. If they did, I'm not really sure they’d even care.

The source of their power comes from nudity. At least that's true for Horus.

If he were covered in fur, the true nature of his character may not be fully realized. Him being born with no hair was a blessing. We can only see him for who he truly is. Naked, in need of warm blankets, an occasional exhibitionist, and a friend who wasn't afraid to approach you if you needed them. And even if they had nothing on. Even if they were totally naked. They'd always be there. For you.